Hallway Tales
by 5kinny.Jeans
Summary: There are so many things people wish they could say they did, things you hear about in books. It's just that real life isn't like that.
1. Undisclosed Desires

I gasped, his lips moved over my neck. If I wasn't pulled so closely to him I would've dropped, I let my head fall back as he continued up the tender skin. I was aware he could probably feel my racing pulse as his lips skimmed my jugular, his hands slipped under the hem of my shirt caressing the small of my back with cool digits. One of my hands was gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. Our lips met once again, his tongue slipping back into my mouth as he explored, his thumbs rubbed my hips, I suddenly felt something pressing into my stomach-

"K-kenny!" I gasped, reluctantly breaking the kiss "W-we need to stop", I said quietly, seeing the hurt in his eyes I placed another lingering kiss on his lips. "I don't want to, but we should", my lips curved downward at the edges when I saw the lingering offended look behind Kenny's short nod.

"Okay", he said simply, removing his hands from my waist and stepped back. Immediately I missed them.

"It's just Ike is upstairs and we can't", I choked out "He'd tell my Mom straight away if he found out", Kenny seemed to be avoiding my pleading eyes, glancing around the hallway awkwardly. I bit my swollen lips and tugged at the edges of my hat.

"I hate this", Kenny muttered almost inaudibly. The severe pain in his expression pierced me as he turned away, running a hand through his blonde hair. I reached out, but my hand faltered. I looked at the floor; there were a tense few moments.

"You hate being with me?" I asked in a tiny, trembling voice. I was not going to let myself cry in front of him, not a chance. My teeth dug painfully into my bottom lip, the space behind my eyes hurt like hell. I was not going to cry.

"No Kyle", Kenny spun around, his fists clenched, anger mixed with sorrow burned in his eyes. I cowered; I could've sworn he was going to hit me. The way he let his head drop after that practically broke my heart in two, he stared at his hands as they unfurled, red half moon shapes were dug into his palm. I stared at him in the half light of the hallway in my house; he looked like he was going to break in to tiny pieces. _I_ felt like I was going to fall apart. "What I fucking hate about this", he stepped closer to me, his head raising as he pulled me into a passionate kiss, he broke it abruptly leaving me dizzy. "Is that you feel nothing", my eyes opened wide, tears pooling at the edges. "You do this _every_ time Stan gets back together with Wendy. I fucking _hate _it!".

"B-but Kenny-", he cut me off.

"Don't even try to deny it! I'm a warm bed to crawl back to when Stan's with Testaburger. I make you feel wanted, that's all I do", he spits at me the venom trying and failing to drown out how absolutely destroyed he felt.

"Kenny, p-please!" I try. But once again Kenny was having none of it.

"What?" he glared at me, "Are you even going to say NO to that!? I know you Kyle, I know you don't lie", I hadn't known what I was going to say, but either way, now it didn't matter. Kenny ran a hand through his hair, heaving a shuddery sigh. He suddenly looked a lot older than 16, as if an invisible weight on his shoulders was aging him early. Earlier on he'd mention that Kevin hadn't come back yesterday night, his cell was off and all Kenny had wanted to do was get his mind off his brother. Kenny's parents hadn't noticed, but he sure had. He spilled his guts to me, saying how he'd waited up sitting in his own small bed, staring at his brother's empty one. I could just imagine him with his blanket cocooned around him, his back pressed against the cold wall. I boldly moved up against him, kissing him on the mouth. There was no response from him, I gripped on to the front of his parka willing him to kiss me back.

"Kenny! Don't do this!" he knew that I wasn't going to declare my undying love at the bottom of my staircase, I knew it too. I just wanted to keep feeling wanted.

"Kyle. No matter how much I want you to want me, as much as I want you, it's all a fucking lie. I'm not going to lie to myself anymore." His face was forced into a look of disgust, he pulled on his ancient and ruined brown boots for some reason I didn't move.

"Goodbye Kyle", he shut the door quietly behind him. I want to say 'the silence was deafening' but all I could hear were Ike's screams of "DIE, DIE, DIE!" and explosions from his stupid video game. I want to say that I broke down crying before I sprinted up the snowy street barefoot after Kenny, embracing him in the freezing night air. I didn't because life isn't a motherfucking fairytale.

**-**

**I crank out crap like this alot, enjoy/reveiw/fave**

**Its only a stupid drabble...**


	2. I knew

I knew I was being used.

The moment Kenny McCormick turned up soaked to the skin and panting on my doorstep, his blonde bangs dripping making that weird noise when the droplets hit the welcome mat. He had looked so angry and sad and needy, he looked broken. Everything looked wrong. Of course I pulled him into a tight hug as he stood on my doorstep at half 11 at night even though he was soaking wet, his sodden parka pressed against my stomach where my tank top rode up. I really didn't care.

I knew I was being used as a few moments into our embrace he tucked me under the chin so I was looking up at him, I knew it was happening but I did nothing to stop it as I reached and closed the door to the howling wind and driving sleet. I knew he was going to kiss me before my lids fluttered shut my head leant to one side, I knew he would make me feel better, make me feel whole at least for a little while. My forearms stung, I was glad because I knew that he couldn't see the red marks in the darkness of the hallway. Rebecca had left the house ahead of Kenny by around 2 minutes; mom had a late shift at Hell's Pass so I was left alone with my dearest sister, who had taken two vodka bottles up to her room as mom had left 2 hours ago, the glare she left me with as her hunched shadow disappeared upstairs had stung me. A warning of what was to come.

He kicked off his boots and ditched his parka on the polished wood floor, his gloves joining them a moment later. His arms were warm, he was warm. My hands were buried in his sandy hair, savouring everything. His touch, his smell, the warmth, his feel, his sound, I would need to remember everything later. Kenny didn't say a word as I came up for air; my eyes were glazed and unfocused.

"Kenny?" I whimpered more than asked, he shushed me in a whisper cupping my cheek. I knew this was going to hurt when he didn't even make an effort to smile, he just looked depressed as he stared down at me, it made me feel like pushing him away. I knew he didn't want me, no; Kenny McCormick didn't want me at all, I knew who he wanted I knew very well who he wanted. Everyone knew. None of us could compare to this person, one thing none of us lot had. We weren't guys, we weren't Kyle Broflovski.

I was an escape, I last resort, an easy leg over when Kenny felt like it. I pretended I was fine with it, it made my head and heart hurt but it felt so good I couldn't deny myself the guilty pleasure of having him pressed against me every time he beckoned. I knew I should feel cheap and used, but it always left me with the amazing glow that he had chosen me. Out of all the girls who pined and swooned at him, Kenny always came to me; Bebe Stevens hated me for it. I knew that everyone knew that he didn't want me at all. I didn't care.

I had nothing to lose and neither did he, I felt him and he felt me. I knew there was no 'we' in this, no discussion, no strings attached as he moved me slowly further down the hall wall I was pressed to, toward the door to the living room, I could hear the wind howling as it blew down the chimney, the sleet lashed the window pane roughly as a drop of water landed on my lips, undoubtedly from Kenny's hair. Kenny claimed back the rain water as he pressed his lips to mine once again, some moments so sweet, so romantic… I knew this was a lie, but it was a damn fucking good lie, lies taste nice on your tongue because you know you've tricked someone into believing your bullshit. The truth doesn't taste so good.

We edged around the door frame, the fire crackled in the grate as he pushed me back onto the sofa, the leather greeting my back with cold plushness. Kenny's hands roamed above the hem of my tank top, my mind was clouded as I felt his lukewarm hands rub my hip bones. I pulled away suddenly, our shallow breathing blended with the blood pumping in my ears, he looked at me questioningly. One eyebrow raised in an ever adorable expression.

"What did K-Kyle do this time?" I stuttered on Broflovski's name halfway through as Kenny's lips had brushed my neck, his head snapped up. Once again he dived back in to make out with me instead of replying. I didn't push it; I couldn't push it with Kenny. His big blue eyes, I remember the first time I saw them when I was standing at the bus stop and he'd put his arm around me. Those were happy days, even if Becca had a thing about giving me cigarette burns back then. Now I saw them, they were darker and the rings around them even more prominent in the shadow of the rainclouds. Sleet had turned to a thundering shower of cold rain; it hardly ever rained in South Park, more than likely it would flood because of the rain and melting snow. If it rained long enough that is.

Kenny's hands were everywhere as I went under. I knew from the start this was where things were headed as he kissed the world away; we lost everything and had only each other for barely 10 minutes, it felt like an eternity. I know more than most that life isn't like a Fairytale, because true love is fucking non existent. He left and I felt on top of the world. For all of 5 minutes.

The key turned in the lock as I sprinted up the stairs, the dark silhouette in the small window of the front door reminded me. The things your parents read to you from them bright, colourful books when you were a kid prepared you for life like an umbrella would in a tsunami. I knew. And because when it rains, it fucking pours.


	3. Life and the other bullshit

Oh god.

I'd done it again, I'd gone and fucking done it again. I pushed my hands backwards through my sandy hair, staring into the mirror like you do y'know? The crack in the top left corner constantly reminded me of what I was, a poor boy. I watched myself as I slowly blinked, staring into my reflection for no reason. I watched my jaw, my cheekbones and the shape of my face. I was actually nothing special. As retarded as it sounds, it surprised me.

Of course acting like a total cocky dick all the time does sort of add to the bad boy visage, cracking out more sex jokes than positions in the fa-hucking karma sutra, smoking, drinking. It was just things I did. I scrape enough money together to buy clothes that however much you wear out they look like you paid for it. But jesus what was it that made girls throw themselves at me? Being a dirty, orange blob for most of my younger years really made me think about why I supposedly _wasn't_ that way anymore. I guess it was because we'd grown up, nothing much had changed. Well, I don't think things have. That much.

But I fucked Frankie again.

Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn't ever touch someone so fragile, not like her. Her sister fucking abuses her, like properly. It's stupid and selfish but she always is there, not in a sad way but she seems like she really cares. She doesn't just chuck herself at me the moment she sees me, she hugs me like she cares. That should push me over the edge sometimes, but it never does, and I don't know what's wrong with me and I don't know what's right with me I'm still that orange blob.

Ow, shit my arms are sore, I've been holding on to the rim of the basin for ages now. I feel like a dumbfuck staring at myself. Now I'm on my bed, my railing bed like the hospital ones with thin crummy sheets. I don't think I've ever said 'I hate my life' before, and I don't think I do either. Most people ask me, 'Don't you hate being poor?' it's like I don't really know much else so I'm used to it. Though I did practically live round Stan's and the Broflovski's when I was younger. Off subject. I did It again, I can't take it back either.

I hate him so much. But I want him. Frankie's a big girl now, she knew, she didn't care, she should've known to have stayed away… Oh who am I kidding? It was my fault. It's always my fucking fault. Shit, the door just opened. Stop hitting your head on the wall now Kenny, you know who it is. I spring off my bed, thump-creak down the stairs and skid into the bare plaster and wood hallway, my old grey socks let one toe peep out on each foot.

"You're back", I choke out in relief as he kicks off his at least fifth hand Doc's. He rolls his eyes at me as I stare at the fresh cut across his cheek; his bangs on the same side were matted with dried blood. My mouth hung open for a moment, then I closed it, this was normal. Actually normal.

"Yeah I fuckin' am", Kevin said gruffly, even though I'd gone past expecting a reply a minute or so ago. My older brother shuffled past me into our strictly basic kitchen, we didn't have enough money this month to get rid of the damn mould patch directly over the kettle. It always annoyed me. I got past him easily and took a piece of stale bread, I pop it in the toaster and wait as the irons slowly heat up. I jump up onto the edge of the counter, I expected Kevin to perch next to me like he usually did. He didn't and took one of Dad's beers.

"You know Dad will go crazy when he realises" I highlighted the 'when' in my sentence; Dad cared more about that drink than his own mother.

"I don't care, I'm not a pussy like you", Kevin snarled back at me as he opened the cheap alcohol and raised it to his lips. I smirked.

"What can I say, we are what we eat am I right?" I snatched my boiling toast, not bothering to butter it as the butter was nonexistent at the moment it scalded my fingertips. Kevin chortled into his beer as I passed, then a voice echoed in the back of my mind. 'Then you must be a right dick then mustn't you Kenny?' I ignored it and sat on the bottom step of the stairs. I took my head in my hands after finishing my dry and scratchy toast which left my throat in ribbons. Why did I let him do this to me? Why did I let myself do that to her? Jesus Christ I'm messed up.

For some reason RHCP Californication came into my head. One of their many amazing songs with even better lyrics, one of the things both me and Frankie loved to listen to.

_Psychic spies from China  
Try to steal your mind's elation  
Little girls from Sweden  
Dream of silver screen quotations  
And if you want these kind of dreams  
It's Californication  
__  
__It's the edge of the world  
And all of western civilization  
The sun may rise in the East  
At least it settles in the final location  
It's understood that Hollywood  
sells Californication_

Pay your surgeon very well  
To break the spell of aging  
Celebrity skin is this your chin  
Or is that war your waging

First born unicorn  
Hard core soft porn  
Dream of Californication  
Dream of Californication

Marry me girl be my fairy to the world  
Be my very own constellation  
A teenage bride with a baby inside  
Getting high on information  
And buy me a star on the boulevard  
It's Californication

Space may be the final frontier  
But it's made in a Hollywood basement  
Cobain can you hear the spheres  
Singing songs off station to station  
And Alderon's not far away  
It's Californication

Born and raised by those who praise  
Control of population everybody's been there  
and  
I don't mean on vacation

Destruction leads to a very rough road  
But it also breeds creation  
And earthquakes are to a girl's guitar  
They're just another good vibration  
And tidal waves couldn't save the world  
From Californication

I hummed along and my head sung the lyrics, drumming my fingers on my tattered jeans. The guitar notes rung out clearly in my head. And I was okay.

**-**

**I'm wondering if anyone but me has ever read these, oh well.**

**Lyrics **** Red Hot Chilli Peppers **


	4. Shine On

_He's a prick. _

I sat with my back to the radiator, my front pretty much freezing and my spine scalding. I pulled my dark hair over my shoulders out of habit, pushing it up from the roots for volume, smoothing my gloss by gliding my lips together and licking my fingers before straightening out my brows one final time. Stan Marsh's house was cold and empty. _Just like you then eh, Wendy?_ I shushed myself by focusing on the photo frames on the walls, family photos, some of younger Stan's and Shelley's, wedding pictures and random paintings, I smiled. Shelley had gotten a lot prettier over the years she'd ditched her braces so she had perfect teeth, sorted out her hair a bit and tried makeup. Well, she was still _just_ average.

I drummed my French manicured nails on the floor lightly, careful not to chip the polish. I wondered what Bebe would say right now, _"Wendy, stop being a stupid little girl. He ditched you while you were making out to go to the store. He needs to grow a pair so you can kick them"_ something along them lines anyway, he'd been gone for around half an hour. It wasn't turning out to be the best Saturday ever. Of course Stan had invited me over this weekend, his parents were out of town and Shelley didn't even live in South Park anymore let alone in his house. So he said we could be all alone together, have the house to ourselves… So _I_ could be all alone together with myself and _I_ could have his house to myself more like. God, I'd put up with so much with this guy, he used to puke on me. _Actually_ puke on me. Wasn't worth it. What boys are?

This isn't even a love triangle anymore, a love pentagon maybe. Kyle wants Stan, Kenny wants Kyle, Frankie and pretty much everyone else want Kenny, Kenny wants Kyle and Stan wants me _and_ Kyle. I don't really want anyone to be perfectly honest. I huffed, wiggling my toes in their sensible but fashionable snow boots, the pool made from the melting snow had grown in that half an hour.

I figured I should be going back home. But I didn't move, I didn't really want to move. I didn't really want to do anything. I tilted my head back, ignoring the slow roasting of my crown; I let out a long sigh that sent shivers racing down the back of my legs. I realise just then how cold I really am, my teeth had been chattering and my toes had gone numb in the time I had sat doing nothing in Stan's house. I half lidded my eyes, my brain hurt from being slowly burned by the radiator that created the small halo of heat I shielded myself in, I _did_ want Stan to come back. I really did.

I loved Stan, not as a brother, not as a lover even. I just… Did. He was of course my first proper boyfriend ever after my stint with politician Gregory; even then Gregory wasn't interested in that sort of thing. I picked myself up my sweater sticking to my really quite boiling back; I pulled it out a bit then opened the front door, the cold hitting me in a wave. I breathed a shaky sigh and left, pulling the door closed behind me and raising the handle. It was symbolic for me, closing the door for the final time on Stan Marsh. Because there was no doubt, it was over. I'm pretty sure that Stan knew it as well. Ah well, it's more of a relief than anything, we tried, we really did. But obviously it didn't work.

I thought about the past 7 years and how everything was moving along so fast, soon we'd have to make our choice to leave South Park and be something or stay here and turn out like our parents. Decisions, decisions and all we seem to be thinking about is who's fucking who etc. etc. After knowing every teenager my whole life, it's going to be weird never seeing half of them ever again… Everything's so serious. Why now? When it's the only time when I want to be anything but serious. I kept walking, not really aware of where I was going just vaguely in the direction of my house. I noticed Stan frozen against a wall across the street from me, staring at me like I was going to murder him; I pulled out my cell phone quickly and began to type. I didn't look up and over at him though, but it was funny that he was so shocked and terrified, fair enough I had a bad temper but this was just ridiculous.

I sent my message, tossing my hair over my shoulder and sashayed my way down the street. Come on! Don't look at me like that, after you break up with someone you need to know how to make a proper exit.

**I don't know, this just came pouring out I guess. I do love Wendy though c:**

**-5kinnys**


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